Runaway Love

beverlyhills

Rating: R
Genres: Angst, Drama
Relationships: Harry & Hermione
Book: Harry & Hermione, Books 1 - 6
Published: 05/02/2007
Last Updated: 10/02/2007
Status: in_progress

Response to challenge by Carlo inspired by the song "Runaway Love." This story is not for the faint of heart, contains child abuse. Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapters

1. Prologue

2. Chapter 2

3. Chapter 3

1. Prologue

A/N: Okay, this is a new story inspired by the Challenge by Carlo. It’s based on the song “Runaway Love.” This is not a fluffy story. This is not a story that will end in a happy ending. It will of course, end H/Hr, but it won’t be a good journey for them, especially Hermione. For all y’all reading Ain’t Life Grand, I’m still writing, but I really want to write this story. This story is NOT fluff. I don’t care if you don’t like it. Real life isn’t about fairy tales and happy endings. This story will contain sensitive subject matter (child abuse). If you want to read it, good. You realize life is hard. If you don’t, please don’t flame me. The story can stay, I’m not going into any graphics. But it’s rated NC-17 because of sensitive subject matter. Now this author’s note is getting to be too long, so let’s get on with the story.

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Twelve year-old Hermione Granger sat with her back against her headboard and tried hard to drown out the sounds of her mother and stepfather’s voices by reading Hogwarts, A History for the fourth time since she’d come home for summer break. It wasn’t working.

Maybe that’s the reason she’s read it so much, because that was the only thing that could actually take her mind away from her situation at hand. But not this time.

Hogwarts most prevalent Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, improved the school system by-

“Well I don’t care what the fuck you say! Who the hell do you think -”

-by adding a-

“I never asked for your opinion! Why don’t you just get the FUCK out of here!”

-adding an excellent grading system that-

SLAM!

The slam of the door startled Hermione and she dropped her book. She looked up and saw the picture on her wall come crashing down. The glass on the frame broke. She got up from her bed and walked slowly towards it. It was a picture of her, Harry, and Ron. She picked it up and sat back on the edge of her bed.

Hermione smiled sadly as she remembered her times at Hogwarts with her friends. It was the best year of her life since her father left. It was so fun at Hogwarts…plus she was away from home.

Only six more weeks, she thought. Six more weeks and I can get out of here…and go home. She smiled at the thought. Nothing but hang out at the lake with her friends, her true friends, with no worry, sleep comfortably at night without being…

She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She heard her mother banging around in the kitchen, no doubt looking for some alcohol to drink herself to oblivion. She looked back at the picture.

They were her first and true friends, Harry and Ron. When she went to muggle school she couldn’t be friends with anyone else. She was just too scared that people would figure out what was going on with her at home. She never had any friends. Well, except for one. But Hermione didn’t like to think about that. She sighed and put the picture down.

She got up and walked to her desk and pulled out a picture from the draw, a picture of her and her father when she was seven. She looked at her father and felt a tear roll down her cheek.

Hermione didn’t know where her father was. He just disappeared. She remembered it so clearly. He came in at night to say goodnight to Hermione, and in the morning he was gone. She remembered asking her mother here her father had gone, begging her to bring him back, but to no prevail. That’s when it all started.

Her mother had started drinking heavily after he left. Soon after that her mother would get angry at Hermione for no reason and would hit her, ever since she was seven. And then when she was nine, her mother met a man, Michael, and they were married within six months.

Hermione didn’t like to think about Michael. She hated Michael. She’d never hated anyone more than that man.

She ran her fingers over the picture of her father. He’ll come back, she thought. He’ll come back and save me.

The door opened slowly and Hermione hid the picture under her pillow. She looked at her visitor and sighed in relief. It was just her little sister. Unfortunately. Hermione hated her little sister too, as well as her mother. Nobody bothered her little sister. Nobody bothered Becca. Just Hermione.

“What do you want,” Hermione asked. Becca walked to her bed and jumped up on it and sat down next to her. Becca was seven, she didn’t know about her and Hermione’s real father. She thought Michael was her father. She thought Michael was the best thing. And Michael never bothered Becca. Hermione felt a surge of anger just thinking about that. Becca held Hermione’s hand.

“Mum says to go get some milk from the store,” Becca said. “Can I come with you?” Hermione sighed. “Whatever.”

It didn’t matter if Hermione hated her little sister. She had to protect her. She always hung around Becca, and made sure nothing happened to her. Nothing did, and Hermione hated her.

Becca stood up. “Well let’s go Mione! Let’s take the long way to the store, it’s nice outside.”

Hermione stood up and slipped her shoes on. “Okay, let’s go.”

Hermione and Becca walked into the living room. Hermione’s mother was sitting at the kitchen counter, her eyes full of tears and one eye black. Hermione stared at her mother and scoffed and shook her head. She hated her mother. Serves her right, She thought. It’s her own damn fault.

She grabbed some money from her mother’s purse (not like she’d notice) and grabbed Becca’s hand. “C’mon, let’s go.” The both walked out the door of their apartment and climbed down the steps and walked out into the sunshine.

“Are we taking the long way Mione? It’s really nice, I don’t want to go back home yet.”

“Me neither.”

They took the long way to the store, each enjoying being away from home for different reasons.

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2. Chapter 2

A/N: I know the chapter’s short, but you know me and chapter length. What I think is long is actually pretty short. This chapter isn’t really an informative chapter, it’s just to lay the basis out. You’ve got the prologue, and now you’ve got this one. Now I’ve laid all the foundation out, the story can begin after this. You can kind of see what’s been going on and how the story will take place. Pay attention to how Hermione talks to Becca, and her thoughts. I’ll explain next chapter. Enjoy.

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Hermione lay in her bed with the lights turned off and her door closed. She had her eyes open and she stared up at the ceiling. She could hear Michael and her mother arguing, as usual. She sighed and rolled over on her side facing the wall.

She knew her mother was probably drunk, maybe even high on drugs. That was something new Hermione just figured out about her mother, or maybe it had always been going on, she just never knew it.

Her mother took pills, what, Hermione didn’t know. But when Hermione had come home from the store with Becca earlier today, she saw the empty pill bottle on the kitchen counter. She knew why people had pills, for pain. And her mother wasn’t in any physical pain.

Hermione grew angry at this thought. Her stomach clenched and she closed her eyes. She rolled back on her back. What pain would her mother be in anyway? Emotional? It’s her fault anyway, all her fault she’s in this situation she’s in. Hermione felt no sympathy towards her mother; she blamed everything on her mother.

It was her mother’s fault why her father had left. It had to be. At least, that’s what Hermione had convinced herself. She wouldn’t believe her father would leave her, not her. Her father loved her. He loved her.

If he loved me, why would he leave? She thought. Hermione pushed that thought aside. She didn’t want to think about that. Obviously it was her mother’s fault. There was no other explanation for it. And since her mother married Michael, it was her own fault if she was in any pain. Hermione scoffed at the thought. What the hell did her mother know about pain? Hermione scowled in the darkness. She deserves all the pain she gets, she thought. She felt no remorse at the thought.

It was quiet in the living room at the moment. She knew what they were doing now. It seemed to be their ritual: Get drunk, fight, have sex, one or both of them would pass out, then wake up, fight, and then have either one of them or more often sometimes both of them storm out of the house and leave Hermione and Becca to wake up in the morning to an empty house.

Not that Hermione was complaining. No, she’d rather it be quiet and be alone than hear fighting and be surrounded. She looked at her clock on her nightstand. 2:43 A.M. She sighed in relief. It was too late. She rolled on her side once more, ready to fall asleep at ease.

She closed her eyes, ready to dream about being home at Hogwarts with Harry and Ron. She shifted uncomfortably at the thought. Even though she loved Harry and Ron, sometimes she felt uneasy around them, since they were both boys. She wondered why she didn’t have any friends who were girls. Sure, she talked to them, but she just thought it was strange she wasn’t close to any girls. That’s not true she thought, but she pushed that thought out of her mind before she got depressed.

Hermione was about to drift off to sleep when a sound like glass breaking jerked her awake from sleep. She listened, heard nothing, and closed her eyes again. She heard her door open quietly.

She wrenched her eyes open and felt her breath quicken. Oh no no no. It was too late. Right? She closed her eyes and pretended to go to sleep. Hopefully he’ll get the hint. She felt her bed lower as though someone was climbing on it. She grabbed her rosary from under her pillow and held on to it.

“Mione?”

Hermione sighed in relief and her body relaxed. It was just Becca. She opened her eyes and turned over to face her little sister. Becca was holding a stuff dog and her eyes were wide and her hair messed up. She looked adorable.

Hermione cleared her throat. “Yeah?”

“Can I…sleep with you?”

“Why?”

She saw her sister shrug. “Mum and Michael keep banging at the wall. I can’t sleep.”

“Did they wake you up?”

“No. I was already awake.” Hermione sighed and moved down. “Okay you can sleep here.” Becca smiled and pulled the covers over her.

It was quiet for a little while. Hermione felt her eyes close. “Hermione?”

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking.”

Hermione struggled to open her eyes. “About what?”

“Maybe I can go to your school with you.”

Hermione’s eyes jerked open. “Why do you want to go to school with me?” she asked cautiously.

She felt Becca shrug. “I miss you that’s all.” Hermione sighed in relief. “And besides,” she continued, “Mum doesn’t really talk to me. Only Michael. I really like Michael, don’t you?” Hermione paused before answering. “I don’t know. Not really. Go to sleep.”

“Why don’t you like Michael?”

“Go to bed!”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

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For the second time that night Hermione’s door opened. Michael stood at the doorframe; his body silhouetted by the light, making him seem darker and more intimidating. He brought his beer to his lips and drank. Becca was sleeping with Hermione. Michael shrugged and closed the door to go wake up their mother.

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3. Chapter 3

A:N/ Hi everybody. I’ve written the last chapter to this story, so we have about eight chapters in total. Thanks for all reviewing, and I double and triple checked my work to make sure it makes sense. I really want this story to be good and be heart-felt. Enjoy this chapter, but don’t freak out too much about the ending. Oh and about Hermione, a reviewer already answered the question, about how it’s natural to feel angry at her mother since she’s supposed to be protecting her.

Enjoy y’all.

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Hermione, Harry, and Ron all walked towards the oak tree by the lake. They were all laughing and joking with one another. Currently they were poking fun at Professor Snape.

“Hey Harry mate, do you hear this? Hermione thinks we shouldn’t be so tough on Snape. It’s not our fault he’s a greasy old brute, though is it?” Hermione giggled and turned to see Harry’s response.

Harry grinned and shook his head. “No, Ron, Hermione’s right. We really shouldn’t be too mean on Snape. After all, I’m sure he gets enough abuse as it is.”

Ron grinned back. “What do you mean?” Harry grinned broadly. “From crashing into walls with that great giant nose of his!” Both Ron and Harry doubled over in hysterics. Hermione smiled and shook her head.

“You boys are so bad.”

“Aw, come on Mione!” Harry said. “You know you want to say something bad about our dear old professor, right? After all, he gave you an E on your potions essay. An E! When you so clearly deserved an S.O.”

“S.O?” she asked confusedly.

Harry put his arm around her shoulders and they walked in front of Ron. “For super outstanding, just like your brains!” He ruffle her hair, making it even wilder than it currently was. “Harry!” she scolded, but she had a smile on her lips. “You know how long it took to fix my hair up?”

“Yeah, about two seconds,” Ron said from behind. Hermione turned around to smack his arm, but he jumped from her reach and started giggling like mad. Hermione pulled away from Harry’s arms and walked towards Ron. He giggled and started running to the oak tree, unaware Hermione hadn’t followed him. He turned around to see Harry and Hermione laughing.

Ron grinned and ran towards them. “That wasn’t funny,” he said. “You made me look like a fool!”

“As usual,” Harry retorted. Hermione laughed.

Ron grabbed Hermione from behind and grinned at Harry. “You know Harry,” he said. “I think little Hermione is being a bit mean, don’t you think?” Harry smirked. “Well what do you think we should do, Ron?”

“Well I don’t know.” Hermione giggled and struggled to escape Ron’s hold. He was tickling her unintentionally. “Ronald! Let go of me!” she said in between laughs.

“Oh, you’re ticklish are you? Harry.”

Harry started tickling her. “No! Harry, stop! Please!” She struggled to stand up, but felt her knees start to give. “No!” she wheezed.

Harry grinned, but there was something sinister in his eyes. Something had changed. “Make sure you hold on to her Ron,” he instructed. “ I don’t want her to escape.” He stopped tickling her. Hermione tried to catch her breath.

“You boys are going to get it!” Harry’s eyes flashed. “Oh really?” He started to unbuckle his belt.

“What-what are you-what are you doing Harry?” she asked breathlessly.

“Hold her Ron.” Ron’s grip on her became less friendly and she felt her wrists being squeezed. “Ron. Ron you’re hurting me!” Ron sneered at her. “Shut up bitch,” he said. Hermione was in shock. Harry moved closer.

“Don’t worry Hermione. It wont hurt.” Hermione’s eyes widened.

Hermione sat straight up in her bed, breathing deeply. As she struggled to catch her breath, she heard the TV playing from the living room, which meant Becca was up.

“Go go go! Race them to the finish line! Yay!”

Hermione ran her hands through her hair and convinced herself it was just a dream. “Just a dream,” she murmured. She sighed and let go of her head. She looked at her alarm clock. It was almost 9:00. She made to get out of bed but stopped when she realized she didn’t want to get up.

She lied back down and thought about her dream. Even her happiest memories at Hogwarts had to be ruined, she thought. She groaned and tugged at her hair in frustration. She sat up hastily and got out of bed.

“Where’s Mum?” was Hermione’s first question to Becca. Becca continued staring at the TV and said, “Don’t know.”

“Was she here this morning?”

“I don’t know.”

“Is that a yes or no?”

“Uhh…Yes.”

“Did she say where she was going?”

“I don’t know.”

Hermione let out a sigh of frustration. “Don’t you know anything? God! Why don’t you pay attention for once in you life?” Becca bowed her head.

“I’m sorry.”

“Oh shut up.”

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Around twelve o’clock their mother finally came home. “Where were you?” Hermione asked.

“Shut up,” was her answer. Hermione scowled. Her mother threw her purse carelessly on the kitchen counter and all her items came spilling, including the empty pill bottle now filled to the top with blue pills. The top popped off and all the pills fell to the floor, scattering all over the place. She heard her mother swear softly.

“Hermione clean this up.” Hermione sighed and bent down to pick up each and every little blue pill. “When you’re done with that,” her mother continued, “go to the store and get some milk.”

“Mum I got that yesterday.”

“Then get some more.”

“We don’t need two containers of milk.”

“What did you say?”

“I said we don’t need two containers of milk.”

“You don’t need to speak to me with that attitude.” Hermione rolled her eyes. She stood up and faced her mother as she put the pills on the counter.

“I’m sorry.”

Her mother slapped her. Hermione’s head whipped around. She turned back to face her mother and scowled at her.

Her mother glared at her. “Now apologize like you mean it!” Hermione stared at her mother for a while before saying, “I’m sorry.”

“Good. Now go get some milk from the store.” Hermione left to get dressed. Her mother sighed and grabbed a cigarette from her purse. She opened a draw and pulled out a lighter. She shook her head and said while lighting her cigarette, “I don’t know what is wrong with that girl. I’ll be glad when she goes back to that school of hers.” Becca was staring at her mother. Hermione came out from her room.

“Are you trying to look unattractive Hermione? Because you’ve succeeded marvelously.”

“Thank you,” was her response.

“Mione can I go with you?”

“Leave me alone.”

“Don’t talk to your sister like that.”

“Oh shut up,” she muttered under her breath. Her mother head her. “What did you say?” she asked. “Nothing,” Hermione replied. “You must be hearing things.”

Her mother walked to Hermione and grabbed her hair and pulled on it. Hermione breathed in sharply. “Now I know you said something. Now what was it?” She let Hermione go. Hermione stepped away from her mother and rubbed her head glaring at her.

“Nothing.”

Her mother looked at her. “Get out of here,” she said.

So she did.

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When Hermione got back she noticed the apartment was quiet. Too quiet. “Hello?” she said aloud. Nobody answered. She smiled wanly at being home alone. She put the milk in the refrigerator and jumped on the couch, and was about to turn on the TV when she heard a tap on the window. She turned her head to see a large, beaten down gray owl.

Hermione smiled and ran to let it in. It collapsed in her arms and she looked at the letter it held. She brought the owl to the couch and set it there to rest, while she read Ron’s familiar scrawl.

Dear Hermione,

How are you? I hope you’re having a good summer, I’ve been having an okay time, Percy’s being a jerk, as usual, and Fred and George are playing pranks on him, as usual, with hilarious results.

Anyway, have you heard from Harry this summer? I’ve written to him every week, and he still hasn’t responded. Maybe the Muggles won’t let him? In any case, Fred and George have a plan to go rescue Harry from the Muggles. I wont go into specifics, but it involves Dad’s old Ford and a bit of flying.

Well I’ve got to go. Write back, and if I don’t see you over the summer I’ll see in Diagon Alley.

See you soon,

Ron

Hermione frowned as she read the part about a flying Ford and as she wrote back to him she wondered what on earth he meant, but hoped he wasn’t doing anything illegal. She gave the letter to Errol, and after giving him some water and receiving a hoot of thanks, he flew out of the window and to the Burrow, wherever that was.

She watched him fly away, and walked out onto her terrace and leaned on the railing, wishing Ron had invited her to the Burrow. She looked down. Her apartment was on the sixth floor, but Hermione wasn’t scared of heights. She wasn’t scared of falling.

She thought back to Ron and Harry, and hoped they were okay. Why didn’t he invite me? She wondered. It probably hadn’t even crossed her mind, but Hermione felt depressed. If he was my friend he’d invite me. She frowned. Probably, a voice said in her head, he couldn’t bear to have such a hideous looking girl step foot in his house. She groaned and rested her head on her arms.

“I should be lucky he even writes to me,” she said to herself. She closed her eyes tightly. She felt a drop of water hit her head and she lifted her head up. It was drizzling. She walked back inside.

As she was closing the terrace door, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. She walked towards it. Her mother was right, Hermione was rather unattractive. Big, buck teeth, crazy, wild hair, and an ugly mug to complete the package. She looked at herself and felt disgusting. “God, Hermione you’re so ugly.” she muttered. She sighed and tore her gaze away from the mirror. She walked into the kitchen to stuff her fat face. If I’m already fat, she thought, might as well enjoy myself. She grabbed a bag of potato chips and sat at the kitchen counter. The pills were still there, her mother never put them back.

Ignoring her food, Hermione picked up a pill and stared at it. It was small, and had no logo on it. She rolled it in her fingers. She put it down and walked to the bathroom.

When she came out she glanced at the mirror again. She bit her lip. She walked back to the kitchen counter and picked up the pill again. She hesitated, then put the pill in her mouth and swallowed.

When she passed by the mirror later and looked into it, she felt beautiful.